Broken Trust
by jackalope17
Summary: A painful accident drives a wedge between Derek and Chloe. Can he forgive himself before she falls into the arms of another man? Does he even want to? I do not own the Darkest Powers trilogy.


_**Prologue**_

_He was everywhere. His touch, his smell. He surrounded her, filling her up. And she took all he offered. Begged for more. _

_ His eyes locked with hers as he moved inside of her. She gripped his hips, urging him deeper. _

_ He growled; a low rumble in his throat that shivered through her. His big hands dug into her hips, flipping her to her stomach- inside her again before her body had time to mourn the loss of his. _

_ His hands, hot and calloused, swallowed hers, drawing them up over her head. Pressing them into the mattress as he arched into her. His large body covered every inch of hers. Flesh to flesh. Consuming. _

_ She cried out, answered by a low groan at her ear. His lips on her neck. _

_ He drove into her again and she could feel the difference in him; tenderness giving way to need- rough and claiming. _

_ She cried out again, overwhelmed by the rawness, the intensity of his body above hers. Inside her. Her mouth opened on a moan and clamped down on his forearm. The smell of his sweat in her nostrils. The taste of his skin on her tongue. _

_ Her jaws flexed and she tasted blood. _

_ He roared above her, climax taking him hard and sudden._

_ His hands on hers tightened, pushing her hard into the mattress as she found her own release. _

_ The sharp snap of bone stilled them both. _

_**Chapter 1**_

He hadn't looked at her in weeks. Not directly. But she felt his eyes on her. Felt his presence like a hot caress down her spine and knew, even as she trembled, that he would not touch her.

The distance between them- his careful disregard- it was his personal brand of self-flagellation. His way of letting her- and the wolf- know that he would not allow himself to be weak again.

A dull ache roiled in the pit of her stomach; the loneliness eating at her. She longed for his touch, and in her longing, let herself remember:

_He rose above her, shoulders bunching, sweat beading his forehead. His green eyes locked with hers, keeping her with him as he plunged into her. His teeth bared. The hand at her hip unmoving, fingertips digging into soft flesh. He rocked forward, gliding deeper. She panted, eyelids fluttering, her head thrashing to the side. But his palm was on her cheek, stilling her, forcing her eyes back to his; deep and green and focused. He pumped forward again and she clutched his shoulders, nails biting the hard muscle there. He groaned. Whispered her name. _

_ His eyes never left hers._

_ When they peeked; a harmony of high moans and rough growls, he let his head fall to her throat, breathing in their mingled scent. His body shuttered, his arms winding around her, crushing her to him. _

_ "Chloe," he whispered into her skin, over and over as he held her. As their bodies calmed. _

_ Her hands curled in his dark hair, cradling his head against her naked breast. _

"Derek," she murmured, not looking up from the book her eyes pretended to focus on; the words blurred and illegible as soon as she sensed him in the doorway.

She knew his big frame filled it, blocking out the hall light. His long shadow stretching into the room. Though he'd been drawn to her by the scent of her arousal, she knew that he wouldn't enter, that she couldn't look up. That the moment her eyes sought his, he would be gone.

And she would rather have the silence than the solitude

He inhaled sharply at the sound of her voice, but didn't speak. He was at her back. He wouldn't let her see the way her voice- her scent- affected him.

His nearness heated her skin and she closed her eyes, exhaling slowly.

"Derek," she whispered, a catch in her voice betraying her desire.

He exhaled, a rough, hot breath that ruffled her hair.

His movements were always so quick, so silent. She hadn't heard him enter the room. Hadn't heard him arrive behind her; a silent shadow at her shoulder.

She inhaled greedily, breathing him in. It had been so long. So long since he'd allowed her to get close enough to smell him, hear the steady rise and fall of his chest. Feel the heat that rolled off his skin.

Goose bumps puckered her skin and she trembled, an addict reunited after too long with the only drug that could sate the empty hunger that tore at her core with endless, barbed fangs.

His fingers, tentative and feather light, skimmed her nape. She shuttered, wanting so much to lean into his touch, though she knew she couldn't. If she moved, if she reacted, he'd run. The moment would be lost. She held her breath, stilling herself.

His hands were on her, fingertips trailing a slow, burning path across the slope of her shoulder. A hand crept into her hair, knotting at the base of her skull, tugging her head gently to the left, her neck arched and exposed. This was the wolf. Testing her resolve. She swallowed, the muscles in her neck working.

A low growl and his mouth was on her, teeth grazing the delicate hollow where neck meets shoulder.

A sharp exhalation parted her lips and he bit down gently- a warning. Her hands fisted at her sides, teeth biting down on the moan twisting in her throat.

After a moment, the pressure on her neck released and his tongue snaked out to lave away the sting left by his teeth, a low, rumbling growl fanning hot breath across her damp skin.

Her teeth dug into her bottom lip as his fingers trailed down her bare arm. Under the hem of her t-shirt. Muscles quivered as his big palm splayed across her stomach, pushing her into the soft fabric of the chair back. She willed her hips to still as the tips of his ring and pinky fingers dipped below her waistband.

His mouth, barely touching her skin, traveled the long curve of her neck, his breath a caress.

He pressed his nose to the curve of her jaw and inhaled, the hand at her stomach drawing her back and up. The one in her hair tugging gently, lengthening her neck. His shuttering exhale spilled down her throat, stuttering over her collar bone and his name, like an oath- a prayer- tore from her throat.

He growled, his hands gripping her harder, teeth scrapping her rapid, erratic pulse.

She groaned, her hips pushing into his hand, her breath exploding past her lips in ragged, panting bursts.

When he spoke, lips brushing the shell of her ear, his voice was thick. Rough. Betraying his eroding control.

"_Chloe._"

Her name. A guttural groan that seeped into her flesh. Igniting her.

Her nails raked his scalp as she fisted his hair, dragging his mouth to hers even as her hips thrust into his touch. His fingers inching lower, parting damp curls.

She gasped into his mouth, his tongue thrusting past her lips, filling her mouth and she couldn't breath. Didn't need to breath.

Her blood was liquid heat. Pulsing. Searing her skin. Her body writhed against his hands, his tongue. His fingers dipped lower.

Lower.

She gripped his forearm and hissed at the sharp pain that lanced through her broken wrist. He tore from her, her heated flesh suddenly cold. Bereft.

His jagged breathing mingled with her own, but she could no longer feel the caress of his breath on her skin. He'd backed away.

"Derek. . ." His name on her lips a question. A plea.

"Chloe I. . ." He breathed in and she thought she felt him move closer; his heat returning. But when he spoke again his voice came from the doorway.

"_I can't_."

Before she could turn, to tell him to wait- to ask him why- the back door slammed.

He was gone. To the woods. To run. To make himself hard.

To push what had happened between them- what kept happening between them- away.

To make himself forget what it felt like to burn and ache and want so badly.

_**Chapter 2**_

"Don't get me wrong, I'm all for romantic tension, but this thing with Derek has spun way out of control."

Simon flung himself down beside Chloe. The untrustworthy porch swing she sat on squealed worryingly and listed to the left, bowing to his greater weight. Unprepared, she toppled sideways, her head glancing off his shoulder. Coming to rest on his thigh.

She tried to laugh, knowing that Simon took his roll as comedic tension breaker seriously, but what came out sounded more like a frustrated grumble.

Rolling to her back, she looked up at Simon. His handsome features crinkled into an upside down smile that almost masked the concern in his eyes.

Laying next to him, her head pillowed by his leg, drinking in the emotions that flitted about his open, expressive face, Chloe allowed herself, not for the first time, to wish things could have been different between them. Because, under different circumstances, in a different life, she knew they would have been.

In that life, Chloe was soft and feminine and delicate; the way she had been before Lyle House and The Edison Group. In that life, there was no need to harden herself; her life untainted by harsh reality and bitter truths.

In that life, that Chloe could have settled for the ease of being with Simon.

Because, in that life, there was no Derek; the hulking, looming presence that blacked out Simon's sincerity with consuming intensity.

Looking into Simon's eyes, she was warmed by the love she saw there, even as she yearned for the blaze she would have found in Derek's. A white-hot flash fire that burned through uncertainty and pretense, eroding her defenses until all that was left was base, animal devotion.

A devotion that mirrored his own when his control snapped and he allowed her to see it.

Looking at Simon, she knew that if she settled for the warmth, she would always crave the burn.

Such a thing wouldn't be fair to either of them.

Simon held her eyes for a moment longer, then looked away, casting his gaze to the woods beyond their porch.

He sighed, long and slow, his fingertips trailing absently through the hair that spilled across his lap. "Yeah," he said, waving his free hand above her face dismissively, "Who'd want to settle for all that happy, stable relationship nonsense anyway?"

"Simon-"

"No. I get it."

He looked down at her again, into her worried eyes and smiled, that wide, honest smile of his, and she knew he understood. That it had cost him, but he understood.

His fingers moved from her hair, fingering the hard cast that encircled her damaged wrist. "He's like your tether."

She looked away from him. At his hand on the cast. Shame warred with regret at the sight of it. Shame, because she hadn't protected Derek. She'd known he was close to the edge that night, that he wasn't being as careful as he should, and she hadn't slowed him down. Hadn't warned him. Because she was selfish. Because his wildness had felt so damn good. Regret because it was this one action, this one laps in judgment, that had driven him away. Convinced him that he was a monster. Always too dangerous. Always too close to losing control.

"Hey," Simon's fingers under her chin brought her eyes back to his. "Chloe, don't," he said, brushing the tears from her cheeks with his thumb. "We were losing you once," he whispered, his hand sliding from her cheek, cupping her jaw, "and he brought you back. He . . . makes you whole in a way that you weren't when we met. He makes you strong. Maybe this isn't the outcome I'd hoped for. Hell, it's probably the last one _he_ wanted, but even he can't stop himself from feeling."

He fingered the cast again, gently. A reminder of what happened when Derek felt too much.

"It was an accident," she whispered.

"I know," Simon said firmly. He knew Derek better than anyone. Of course he knew it was an accident. "He's a better man because of you Chloe. Better than he ever thought he could be, and it scares him. Because he's so afraid-" his fingers twined with hers, leaving the cast for a moment "-so afraid that it's only a matter of time . . ."

"It won't happen," she said. "I believe that."

"So do I," he said softly. "God, how you shine Chloe. Never more than when your with him."

Chloe reached for him, stroking her knuckles along his jaw, eyes misting. The way he saw them- it was everything she felt, everything she wished Derek could see. And she knew this truth wasn't easy for him. It squeezed him out, making him the odd man in a pack that used to orbit him.

But he would give them this; his blessing. His discretion.

"Simon-"

A twig snapped in the woods beyond the porch. Simon's eyes darted away from her face, to the woods, his posture stiffening.

Chloe rolled her head, looking into the woods. Into Derek's slitted green eyes. She watched them dart about the scene, taking it in. Simon's hand on her cheek, her head on his thigh. Her fingers on his face. His eyes lingered on the cast before lifting to find hers.

When their eyes met, what she saw there- it froze her. Stopped the hand that moved from Simon to reach for him. In his eyes, beyond the dull sheen of resignation and acceptance, she saw the barest glimmer of relief. That she'd turned from him. Turned to Simon.

_As it should be_, his eyes said as he bowed his head and backed away, disappearing into the woods.

"I just wish he'd let himself see it," Simon sighed, his words a mirror of her thoughts.

_**Chapter 3**_

Panic. Derek felt panic. And the wolf.

The way Simon held her, the tender look on her face-

He'd succeeded then. His cold distance had finally pushed her away, finally cleaved its way through the connection that bound them. This is what he'd wanted. Because he could never have her. Not after what he'd done.

_Mine, _the wolf snarled, flooding Derek's mind with images of Chloe: the look in her eyes after he'd kissed her for the first time; her flushed face, slick lips parted on a moan as he entered her. _Her hand on Simon's face._

The wolf snarled again and railed against his rapidly crumbling control.

_Mine,_ it howled in his mind, its rage tinging his vision a violent crimson. Urging him to turn around, stake his claim by tearing into Simon's weak, pliable flesh.

Panic. Like a brick in his chest, crushing the air from his lungs. The change was on him. The wolfs pain and rage too much for his frayed control. But he was too close to the house. If he changed here, if they came looking for him-

It had taken all of his willpower to back away from them; leave them tangled on the porch swing and melt into the trees.

_**She is MINE!**_ the wolf bellowed, the force of it's rage sending Derek to his knees.

He retched, a strangled howl forcing its way past his lips.

No. He needed to do this quietly. He couldn't risk the noise luring them into the woods.

Derek staggered to his feet, tried to run, to move deeper into the woods, but his legs were twisted, half changed and bent at a painful, unnatural angle. He fell, leaves and dirt shoving into his nostrils. His fingernails lengthened, tearing into the soft earth beneath him and he howled. Long and loud, the sound filling with all his grief and rage and pain.

The change spasmed through his muscles, contorting his body. Breaking and reforming it.

He wanted her. Needed her. Could never have her.

_Mine,_ the wolf insisted.

"No," Derek grunted, pushing the word past lips no longer meant for speech. "It's better . . . this way."

A twig snapped and his head whipped toward the sound, a feral growl exploding from his lips.

"Derek."

Her voice washed over him, instantly calming the wolfs rage. He whimpered and couldn't tell if the sound came from man or beast. Half changed, he curled into himself, trying to shield her from the grotesquery of his heartbreak. His face, his hands.

_His hands. _

They were the cause. The reason he couldn't let himself-

Because of what they could do. What they had _already _done.

Rage returned, a roar tore from his throat and Derek rammed his fists into the ground. Claws that should have been fingernails dug into the meaty flesh of his palm and blood ran. Buried in the earth his knuckles found a jagged rock and he drove bone and flesh into it again and again. Punishing his hands- ugly and monstrous- for all they had destroyed.

Rage blinded him, deadened his senses until all that was left was the pain. Sharp and necessary.

Then her voice was in his ear, forcing him to awareness, driving out the senselessness. The anger.

"No Derek."

Her voice was thick and wet, and when his vision cleared, when he could see her crouched in front of him- feel her hands on his face- he saw that she was crying.

He reached up with a hand that was now only Derek's; the change bleeding away. His thumb brushed away her tears, replacing them with a bloody smear.

"Please stop this Derek," her voice trembled and she leaned into his touch, cradling his head in her small hands.

His body shuttered. Unable to hold onto the rage that made him strong he surrendered to the feel of her flesh on his and collapsed against her.

She murmured small words to him.

It wasn't until she pressed her lips to the curve of his cheek bone and they came away wet that he realized he was crying.

_**Chapter 4**_

His eyes, gummed shut by exhaustion and old tears, opened slowly. Hot, white sunlight burned his cornea; blurred his vision. He moaned and rolled to his side, crisp sheets rustling.

Then he remembered; the woods, the wolf-

"Chloe."

His body catapulted up and off the bed, the sudden movement shooting daggers of pain into his temples. He stumbled, but stayed on his feet, whipping his head violently to the sides, trying to shake off the cobwebs that splintered his vision.

"Derek."

Her voice beside him. A gentle hand on his chest. Urging him back toward the bed.

"You have to rest Derek. Your body has been through a lot today."

She sounded so calm, so sure. Her certainty- it was intoxicating in its promise of ease and answers.

He swayed forward, leaning into her scent, curving his large frame around her. His palms slid up her hips, lifting the hem of her t-shirt to splay, skin to skin, along the bones of her ribs. His fingers were so long they almost met at the curve of her spine. He drew her to him, pressing his hips into hers, and bent forward. His nose at the base of her throat, Derek inhaled, filling himself up with the scent of her; clean and spicy and-

"Mine."

He growled the word into her skin, nipping lightly at her collar bone.

She sucked in a sharp breath and her scent changed; flooding with the hot, sweet smell of arousal. He growled again, a low rumbled deep in his throat and she clung to him, fingers sliding into his hair. Nails raking his scalp.

"Yes," she breathed, her voice heavy with need. "Yours. Always yours."

Lifting her from the floor, he spun, dropping her to the crumpled sheets that smelled of him; mingling their scents.

Chloe scooted backward, to the center of the bed, and leaned back on her elbows, her knees up, but spread wide enough to accommodate his body. Her cheeks were flushed and she panted softly, eyes glassy with desire.

And he froze.

Because he'd seen her like this before.

Because he knew hot it would end.

He turned his back on the bed- on her- fists clenching painfully at his sides.

Derek looked down at his damaged hands, scabbed and bruised, but clean, and knew she'd been the one to wipe the blood away.

Remorse raked his body. He'd lost control, allowed the wolf to break it's chains and put her in danger. And she'd stayed- to clean up his mess. Anger replaced remorse and he clenched his fists again. So hard the scabs cracked and bled.

"You shouldn't be here."

He'd meant to sound angry- irritated- but the words floated on a broken whisper.

"The wolf . . . I can't . . . your not safe."

"Derek-"

He spun on her, the rage sudden and hot.

"_**Your not safe with me**_," he bellowed, vicing her shoulders in his hands and shaking her. "Can't you see that? Can't you see the monster in me? Can't you _feel_ it?"

He spat the last, releasing one shoulder to grasp her injured wrist. She winced, but didn't pull away. Didn't drop her eyes from his.

"You won't hurt me," she said firmly.

His hands relaxed, the surety in her voice calming him. Calming the wolf.

Until his eyes landed on the cast again.

"I already have," he said in disgust, dropping her hand and backing away from her.

"It was an _accident_, Derek. Just as much my fault as it was yours. We got carried away. If I had just-"

"_Don't_," he snapped, lunging forward again, his nose an inch from hers, eyes locked. "Don't you _dare_ blame yourself for what the monster inside me-" no. He wouldn't blame the wolf. At the time, he'd been only a man. "For what _I_ did to you."

"And what your just itching to do again, right?" she spat, her breath fanning his face in a hot rush. He inhaled, unable to stop the hand that knotted itself into her hair, holding her forehead against his. With her so close, her heat roiling over him, filling his senses- he couldn't stop himself. Though he knew he had no right.

"Yes," he bit out sharply before slamming his lips down against hers. He kissed her without skill or thought toward pleasure, interested only in the fusing of their bodies. His tongue invaded her mouth, stealing her breath and taking it into himself. Her teeth dug hard into his lower lip and she pulled away.

"Do it then," she said, her words hard and breathless. "Do it Derek. Hurt me. Prove yourself the monster, because I don't believe it."

Anger flushed her cheeks. Her chest rose and fell with rough, violent breaths. Derek smelled her anger, tinged with the passion of a moment ago, and knew he'd never seen anything more beautiful.

_Mine,_ the wolf whispered, a smug, insidious snake in his mind. Tempting him. Tearing at his resolve.

"**No!**" he roared, nails digging into his temples as he sank to the floor. "I wont . . . I wont . . ."

He was trying to tell the wolf that he could not have her. That he _wouldn't _let it happen, but she misunderstood. She thought he was talking to her.

"You won't what Derek? Hurt me?" her voice was derisive, scornful. "This cast says otherwise."

Rage and pain tore at his chest and he howled, sinking further into the floor.

"This," she continued, moving from the bed to stand over his crumpled form, "tells me you wanted very much to hurt me. More than that, you liked it. Didn't you?" Cold disgust laced her accusation, driving into him like lightening. Hot pain sizzled through every nerve ending and his whole body spasmed.

"No," Derek exploded, launching to his feet.

He towered over her, one inch of space the only thing separating his body and hers. His hands fisted at his sides, shoulders bunching as though readying for-

_Calm brother. She is mate. _

The wolf spoke, and the tension slid from his body. He sagged to the floor, on his knees before the girl he loved. The girl the wolf could not harm, because she was their mate.

_His_ mate.

He looked up at her, taking in every inch of the body he burned to possess. When he reached it, her face was a hard mask. Their eyes met, and she must have seen the change in him. The mask fell away and she was pain; loneliness and need.

"Kill me Derek," she whispered. "Kill me or fuck me, because I wont survive another minute without you."

_**Chapter 5**_

Derek knelt before her, his eyes dark. Tortured.

He wanted her, longed to reach out and take what he knew was his, but he was still so afraid.

Over-thinking.

"Don't think about it Derek," she plead, letting all the want and weeks of pain seep into her eyes. "Please just-"

His arms wound around her waist, twin bars of corded strength-dragging her to him. He pressed his face into her stomach. His breath warmed her skin; his tongue ignited it, snaking out to trace the sharp swell of her hipbone.

She hissed in a breath, her hands knotting his hair.

"Chloe," her name a growl against her flesh, his fingers tightened on her, sliding up to her ribs.

"Chloe, when I- I'm sorry. So sorry . . ."

His voice didn't break, but she could feel the hot tears roll down her abdomen.

"I know," she said, hands moving to cradle his face; raise his eyes to hers so that when she spoke, he'd see the truth in her eyes. "_But I'm not. _What happened- Derek, it was an _accident_. An accident that we are _both _responsible for."

His face clouded and he tried to pull away, but she gripped his jaw, holding him in place. Needing to make him understand. "I saw the warning signs, felt the change in you, but I didn't want to stop. Didn't want to slow down. _I _failed _you_ Derek, because, as much as you can't stand it, it's my job to protect you too."

"No," he spat, wrenching from her grasp. She'd beaten him, broken his will to see her safely and forever from his arms, there was no reason to taint herself with blame. "It is _my _responsibility to stay in control. To keep you safe and I-"

"You _have_ kept me safe. I was a terrified, broken thing when I met you, Derek. But you never treated me as though I might break. Never expected anything from me but courage and strength and you _made _me strong. Don't take that away from me. You won't break me Derek, I promise, but I can't be strong without you."

He froze, gaze fixed on her tear bright eyes.

"Why can't you let yourself see how much I need you?"

She was tattered and vulnerable and honest, and in that moment, as close to breaking as she'd ever been, the only thing she wanted- the _one thing_ she needed- was him.

He sat back hard, drawing her into his lap where he could curl his large body around her petite frame, shielding her from the hurt and pain that hung like wraiths about her shoulders.

"Derek," she whispered, her hands finding his face again.

"Chloe," he breathed her name like a prayer, his face against her throat. "Chloe, I can't . . . without you . . . I just can't . . ."

He stumbled over the words. Couldn't find the arrangement that was exactly right.

She understood anyway.

"I know," she murmured into his hair. "Me neither."


End file.
